The Alpha's Daughter (28 page)

"The men ran until the moon set and their
women were all up and waiting for them to come home. It was a hot
time in the old town last night," he told her and winked. "Most
won't come straggling back until noon."

Jazz certainly hoped he was right. Walking
down the middle of the road in nothing but Griz's tee shirt, part
of her felt like a wayward teenager who'd snuck out her bedroom
window to party all night and now wanted to sneak back in. The
other half felt like she wanted the world to see her and know where
she'd been. The party had been the best of her life.

They'd dozed between bouts of lovemaking; he
with his head pillowed on her stomach or she, sprawled across his
big body head on his shoulder, nose in the crook of his neck. Her
grizzly wasn't a slam-bam-thank-you-ma'am kind of guy and she
should have felt exhausted. Instead, she felt more awake and alive
than she'd ever felt in her life.

It was good for Griz, too. She still didn't
know what caused the cloud that hung over him, but last night it
lifted. She could see it in his face and hear it in his laugh.

She danced in front of him raising her arms
in the air and swaying seductively. "Does that mean we get to stay
in bed until noon?"

"You'd better be careful there, Bunny. Your
red tail is showing," he laughed.

"That's your fault," she pouted and then
laughed, too. "You won't give me my underwear back."

Griz patted his front pocket. "Trophy of the
hunt. You'll have the chance to win them back tonight."

"No I won't. You cheat." Once she'd convinced
him she was no fragile flower that needed constant delicate care,
her grizzly had become quite an inventive and demanding lover.

"It's not my fault that I'm bigger, faster,
and stronger." His chest puffed out a little. "I'm an alpha. Of
course I'll win."

"Enjoy the glory while it lasts, Papa Bear.
Tonight I get to make the rules."

"I'm looking forward to it, little bunny." He
grabbed her hand and pulled her to him. "In the meantime, that tail
is mine to enjoy and no one else's. Keep it covered."

"Yes, sir!" she laughed and stretched the
tee-shirt down as far as it would reach. It was a good thing she
did.

"Yoo-hoo," Two tiny butterballs called from
Griz's front porch.

"They never show up when I'm dressed," Jazz
complained in a whispered aside as she smiled and waved at the
twins.

"Maybe that's because you spend most of your
time wearing my clothes instead of your own," he whispered back.
"Edith! Edna! What brings you two out so early?"

"Oh," Edna waved her hand, "We never went
home. Did you lose your clothes again, dear?"

"In all the commotion, she forgot to change
into cotton," Griz said smoothly.

"Did she?" Edna looked at her sister and
giggled, "Poor thing. That nice Mark Waldman brought these rockers
down for you, dear," she said to Jazz and pointed to the two new
rocking chairs. They were handcrafted of variegated wood and like
his cabinets, they were beautifully made.

"He thought the porch could use a pair.
They're very comfy. Sister went home and brought back our shawls
and afghans and we were snug as two bugs in our own little
rugs."

Jazz knew the speaker was Edna by the pink
shawl she clutched around her shoulders. Edith always accessorized
in green.

"He said to tell you your bookcases will be
ready by the end of the week," Edith went on. "We let him in to
take some measurements. Was that all right?"

What if she said it wasn't? "Of course it's
all right. Thank you, but why did you spend the night on the
porch?" Other than to catch her coming home 'naked' which is what
the whole world would know by noon.

"Well," Edna continued, "Since Doc left the
office unattended, we thought someone should be here in case there
was a need."

"In case there was an emergency, you see,"
Edith clarified.

"Ah, I do see." Griz nodded sagely. "And was
there? An emergency, I mean." He pointed to a box on the floor that
held what looked like eleven corked beer bottles. The box was made
for twelve.

"No emergencies." Edith sounded disappointed,
"But you did have a patient. Didi Haines stopped by not long after
moonset. She said she needed to see the doctor."

"She did, did she?" Jazz knew the woman's
story, but that didn't stop her from wondering why she was stopping
by Doc's after a run. Everyone knew how randy wolvers got after
going over the moon.

"Oh yes, dear," Edna said to Jazz and then to
Griz, "We thought it was a case of dashed hopes, so we gave her a
bottle of Mama's elixir. It's a sure fired cure for dashed
hopes."

"Ladies." Griz crossed his arms over his
chest and frowned at the elderly twins. "We've talked about this
before."

Edith bristled. "We've been dosing folks
around here with Mama's elixir for more than sixty years. Why Dear
Ernest swore by Mama's elixir. Said it was good for what ails
you."

"And if nothing ails you, it's good for that,
too," Edna added in a voice Jazz assumed was the dear departed's.
Edna gathered up their covers while Edith lifted the box of elixir.
"Will you be needing us again tonight?" she asked hopefully.

"That would be wonderful," Jazz said before
Griz could open his mouth. "And thank you again for being on call.
I don't know what the doctor would do without you."

Griz shook his finger at the beaming twins.
"No pregnant women and no pups," he warned.

Edith waved his warning away with a laugh.
"Betty Gruber is the only one carrying and she's healthy as a
horse. And we'd never give Mama's Elixir to pups. It's much too
powerful for tender tummies."

When good byes were said and the twins were
gone, Jazz closed the door and leaned against it, laughing. "So is
Mama's elixir anything like Miz Mary's Apple Pie?"

"Twice the kick and none of the afterburn."
Griz shook his head. "They flavor it with blackberries and God
knows what else. It's more than alcohol. I can tell you that much.
It's a secret family recipe that hopefully dies out with them. They
claim it cures headache, depression, and sleeping troubles,
arthritis, bursitis and rheumatism. Apparently it cures heartache,
too. Like Dear Ernest said, whatever ails you."

"Does it work?"

"Hell yes, it works. By the time you finish
the bottle, you're not feeling a damn thing." He picked up a
blanket someone had folded over the end of the couch and wrapped it
around Jazz's shoulders. "Come on, Baby Bunny, let go chase some
snakes."

They did get a few hours of sleep, but not
many before Griz was pulling her closer and kissing her cheek and
telling her he had to get up to start the coals in the big oil-drum
grills for the pig roast.

Much to Jazz's dismay, she learned that they
were, in fact, roasting whole pigs that had been gutted and
flattened for the occasion. Worse, they still had their heads. One
came from a neighbor and one from Griz. She didn't know if she
could eat it. Griz laughed at her concern.

"You hated those pigs, but you're going to
love 'em once they're roasted."

"I hated their smell," she argued. "They were
like bad neighbors. You want them to move. You don't want them dead
and you sure as hell don't want to eat them."

"You're a wolver. You eat meat," he argued
back. "You have no problem at all wolfing down the meat in the
fridge."

"That's different. I didn't know them when
they were cow or pig. I didn't know the chickens while they still
had feathers." She rolled over and looked Griz in the eye. "If I
recognize him, I'm not eating him. I'm not eating my next door
neighbor."

Griz leaned in and kissed her nose. "You,
Jasmine Phillips, are a fake. You want everyone to see the tough
girl, but the leather and the mouth and the makeup are just the
hard candy coating for that marshmallow heart of yours. You really
are a baby bunny, all soft and cuddly." He tickled her side where
he'd learned she was vulnerable.

Jazz tried to stifle her giggle as she
slapped his hand away. "Go start your coals, Papa Bear, before Baby
Bunny kicks your ass."

Griz rolled to the other side of the bed and
started getting dressed. "Have it your way, Baby Bunny, but those
rockers on the porch aren't a thank you to me for delivering that
baby. They're a thank you to you for giving the man a piece of his
pride back. It was you who went to bat for Livvy and her rogue
boyfriend. It was you who went to bat for the whole lot of them. No
who-gives-a-shit tough chick would do that."

"How do you know about that?" she asked in
surprise. "That only happened fifteen minutes before my father
arrived."

"This is Gilead," he said as if that was an
answer. He pulled a shirt over his head. "We don't need emergency
coverage and you know it. I told you nobody ever gets sick on the
night of a frolic and the Alpha could call me back if there was an
injury, but those two little busybodies need to feel needed. You
gave them that, too, even though they'll happen to mention to
anyone who'll listen that you came prancing up the street buck
naked this morning. So feed the tough girl routine to someone
who'll swallow it."

There was no sleeping for Jazz after that.
The Mate had said Jazz used makeup as a mask and that she had a
pretty heart. A pretty heart made of marshmallow. Why hadn't anyone
seen it before she came to Gilead? Why hadn't she seen it
herself?

The answer had to be Gilead. There was magic
here, more than the magic of the Alpha's mantle, more than Griz's
glowing ball of healing. Ellie even sang a song about it one day
when they were doing laundry, though Jazz didn't think that's what
the song was written about.

"
There is a balm in Gilead
,
to make the wounded
whole. There is a balm in Gilead
,
to heal the sin-sick soul."

Was Gilead healing her?

Jazz was still humming the tune
when she went down to the kitchen where a half dozen women were
already at work and where a laughing Donna informed her they were
organizing a clothing drive so Jazz wouldn't have to run the roads
naked.

Jazz thought that after the late night,
people would be lethargic and snarly as the men in her father's
pack always were. Quite the opposite, the Gilead pack was even more
smiling and friendly toward her than they'd been before. The two
exceptions were Roger Wilson and Didi Haines.

Jazz couldn't help but hear Roger complaining
loudly to a group of men that Doc had no right to do what he'd done
the day before.

"No right, I say. He usurped the power of The
Alpha." There was a murmur among the men and Roger's voice rang out
again. "There were other ways to solve it. We could have ransomed
her, paid for her release." There was another murmur and several
men laughed.

"I have money," Roger said.

Jazz couldn't tell if it was a boast or
simply a statement of fact. Knowing Roger, it was probably a bit of
both. She took her time wiping down one of the tables so she could
hear more, unashamed of her blatant eavesdropping.

"He's from away," Roger went on, "Only been
here, what, two years? Never runs, never participates in Court or
Council. How does he know what this pack needs? I could have had
the woman bought and paid for without any bad blood between packs.
Someone needs to stop Doc Goodman before he brings doom upon this
pack. Doom, I say."

"Bought and paid for? Someone needs to stop
Doc Goodman? I'd like to see the little weasel try," Jazz thought.
Her fists were clenched, her jaws were tight and she was taking
deep, cleansing breaths which only added oxygen to the fire of her
anger and did nothing to calm her.

Jazz was ready to explode and then she heard
her grizzly's deep chuckle and turned to find him watching her from
across the way. By his broad gestures, he was telling her to calm
down and relax. She flipped him a gesture of her own, but laughed
when she did it.

Didi Haines was another matter. She never
said a word to Jazz, but every time their eyes met, Didi would
shoot daggers from hers.

"What is her problem?" Jazz asked the Mate
when she finally arrived.

"The man she loves thinks you were sent here
for him and her second choice spent the night with you. What do you
think the matter is?" Miz Mary motioned to young Tommyboy who
trudged behind her carrying a large black suitcase. "That mean
looking fella, your father's second? He left this by the side of
the road. Tommyboy here found it and brought it to the Alpha. We
thought he forgot it here while they was loading the back with
their dead. Now, I'm not so sure it was a mistake. Open it."

Jazz knelt and unzipped the bag. A rainbow
assortment of underwear topped the pile of clothing, all of it
hers. Moose didn't make mistakes. He'd found an opportunity to
leave her a suitcase full of her clothes. She rummaged through the
jumble of hastily packed items. There were short, slinky dresses
and low cut tops and skin tight pants. There was even a pair of
high heeled boots and a pair of red shoes with five inch heels. The
selection was the hottest, sexiest best from her closet.

"My candy coating," she thought to herself,
"My armor."

She zipped the suitcase and turned to
Tommyboy. "Will you drag it on up to the porch for me please? Doc
Goodman can take it from there."

"Not going to run upstairs and change?" the
Mate asked.

"No, I'll go through it later. Some of it
I'll keep, the underwear especially, but a lot of it I'll be giving
away. Not my style anymore, I guess. How's the Alpha?"

"Tired, very, very tired," Miz Mary said and
now that Jazz really looked at her, the Mate looked tired, too.
There was a weariness about her that wasn't there before.